


Chew Toy

by gloss



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dark, F/F, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Grimbark, Knotting, Mind Control, Non Consensual, Rimming, Size Kink, Tentabulges, Xeno, robo!Jane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>plaid: jade is the wolf, jane is little red riding hood, condy is grandma, they all bone<br/>me: Roxy can be their chew toy?</p><p>Funtimes(?) with the grimbark robohood crew. For plaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chew Toy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to g for the beta.

It was probably inevitable. First came Lil Cal, then Lil Seb and Lil Hal.

Now, thanks to the unfathomable whims of a despotic troll empress, Roxy is pretty much Lil Kim, halter top and push-up-booty shorts and sequin-encrusted six-inch heels and everything. She folds her arms this way, then that, but nothing's comfortable.

She's groggy, heavy-limbed and fuzzy-headed, but even so, this feels _wrong_.

"Girl, you look so fine --" HIC breaks off and cackles. "For a weak-ass lil alien, I mean."

Roxy teeters on the heels. Every inch of her skin is goose-bumped. "Just tell us what you want." 

She tries to sound brave. She doesn't feel it.

More than anything, she just wants to sleep.

"You stupid scrap of chum." HIC wraps her arm around Roxy's neck and hauls her upward. She's so _big_ , it's dizzying. Roxy just dangles there, choking, head spinning. "More'n you know." She licks the side of Roxy's face with the briny-sharp tip of her tongue. "Let's go see what your fronds are getting up to."

She carries Roxy under her arm, like a disobedient dog or extra handbag. Her hair tangles over Roxy's face, stinking of blood and salt; her skin is cold and too smooth, unyielding.

Barking echoes down the hallway, set in counterpoint to HIC's boot heels click-clacking on the black-purple marble. Everything here is dark but somehow lambent: they're inside a bruise, membranes pulsing with pain and blood and seawater. 

Barks and howls, modem screeches and whistles, greet them as HIC enters the antechamber. The walls are dark and slick, oyster-meat and black pearl shine. The floor is littered with scarlet and pink pillows, misshapen wet spots, weapons and glinting loot.

If Roxy could just _wake up_ , maybe she could put up a fight. This is what she's been waiting for her entire life, isn't it? 

Isn't it? She's not so sure anymore. It's so hard to think straight.

The dog-girl ruffs and rolls on her back, stretching, exposing her stomach. Jane (beautiful sweet terrifying _Janey_ ) is lying next to her. Circuit pathways flicker across her skin, as she rubs the dog-girl's tummy. Dog-girl's tongue lolls; her fangs glint in the low light.

"Good dog, best maid." HIC drops into a pile of pillows. It squishes moistly as she pulls Roxy up against her chest, half across her lap. She giggles, adding, "Bad wolf, red hood!"

The rings in her gill frills clink and chime as she shakes Roxy. 

"That," she says right against Roxy's ear, "was a motherglubbin' _joke_. A funny one."

"Ha?" Roxy tries. "A-haha?"

"Shore, shore," the Condesce says, her attention returning to the girls on the floor. "Such pretty little spawn, huh?"

Jane is giving off a high-pitched buzz that fades in and out, an entirely different rhythm than the flashes and flickers across her skin. She doesn't look like anyone Roxy knows or loves, except in outline. Same curvy Jane body and mussed-up Jane hair, but filled in with static and throbbing blood and bytes that skate and skitter across her skin.

"Red. Snapper," HIC announces, or commands, her voice lifting. "Snap. Her." She giggles again and hugs Roxy against her. Her hand spans half of Roxy's torso; her fingernails are as long as Roxy's actual fingers. They're sharp, pricking into Roxy's skin, pressing in. "Watch, you."

"Ruff-ruff!" The dog-girl pounces on Jane, wrestling her onto her back, then her front, snarling playfully as she buries her face in Jane's neck. They roll around, static-buzzing and puppy-yipping, until they hit the wall.

They're still wrestling there, but more slowly, the dog bent around Jane, one of Jane's legs hooked around the others' legs. They're kissing, making wetly eager, sloppy sounds and grinding against each other. 

_Humping_? Roxy works her jaw and says it aloud.

"Humpbackin'!" the Condesce cries, clapping so delightedly that Roxy slips a little into the crevice between her arm and side. The empress hooks two fingers into her lower lip and whistles. "Now we're getting somewhere!"

Roxy sags against her, floating just above sleep. Her thoughts, when they do form, are syrupy-slow and confused.

HIC wriggles back into the cushion, spreading her legs wider as she beckons the girls closer.

She must have done this a thousand times. More, way more. Once you're a thousands-of-years-old megalomaniac alien sea witch, it must be hard to stay interested in any single little thing.

"Thought you hated this?" Roxy hears herself say. "You hate..." She can't remember the word.

"Hate _you_ ," HIC replies and pinches Roxy's cheek. "Don't hate fun. Never did, never will."

Jane's dress is twisted up to her armpits, her leggings tugged down her thighs; the dog-girl rolls them over, lapping at Jane's neck and chest, snuffling and slobbering. Punch-card columns run down the length of Jane's torso.

HIC lifts her ass from the cushion as she fumbles one-handed with her belt. Roxy slips farther down before getting yanked back up. When she's upright again, Jane and the dog-girl are sitting before them, eyes wide, attentive. The batterwitch hitches up one leg, stabbing her heel into the cushions, letting it fall open. Her leggings are open, too, her hand working inside.

Roxy tries to catch Jane's eye, but Jane and the dog-girl are staring fixedly ahead. The dog-girl pants, then licks her lips, her ears upright and trembling; Jane's black sclera look blank, her red irises burning.

The Condesce tugs up her bulge out of her pants and throws back her head. Jane and the dog-girl fall forward as one, like pigs to a trough, as the bulge squelches open and tentacles push out.

So many of them, waving and fluttering, long thick ones the color of eggplants, smaller, thinner ones scarlet and blue, reaching and spiralling outward and upward. Nudibranch ruffles, baroque curls and undulating surfaces, enlarge and pulse. 

Roxy is as captivated as the others. Just as dry-mouthed, almost panting. She doesn't want to be; she _knows_ that the sight is revolting, that this enormous woman is her enemy, that they're all being jerked around like puppets. But her sleepy haze has twisted and sharpened, grown thorns, and now she's _hungry_.

"No! Bad dog!" The Condesce kicks the dog-girl away as she starts to mount Jane. "C'mere, baby."

Roxy reaches for Jane as the empress lifts her up and settles her against her chest, elbowing Roxy out of the way. Roxy slides to the floor, face against the Condesce's leg, and feels the weight of the dog-girl against her back.

Knowledge is a funny thing right now. It flashes across her mind -- this is wrong and I don't want this \-- but though she understands the words, even agrees with them, they have no impact. 

She's down here, knees dug into the damp carpet, craning forward to taste the nearest tentacle. Jane grabs Roxy's hair, dragging her forward, showing her teeth. When she kisses Roxy, the feedback screech heightens, then drops off into a static buzz as HIC claps and the dog-girl scrambles atop Roxy. Her claws rip Roxy's skimpy shorts, tug them off.

Jane lets her go, taking some of Roxy's hair with her, then shoves her face into the center of the Condesce's bulge. Slick tentacles slap and sting her skin, and Roxy's about to cry out when Jane pushes her own face to meet Roxy's and kisses her again. A thick purple tentacle writhes between them, around Roxy's neck, then up Jane's cheek. Jane's tongue is electric in Roxy's mouth, fucking in and out, showers of silver and black bytes filling Roxy's throat.

Above them, so far away, the Condesce speaks, but tentacles are probing Roxy's ears and tugging at her hair, and Jane's teeth are cutting pathways in her lips. She can't make out the words.

The dog-girl grasps Roxy's shoulders and whuffs a couple times. Roxy's knees are kicked apart, her ass drawn up even as the rest of her flattens on the heaving, dripping floor. Her hands scrabble in the folds but can't grasp anything. There's heat and pressure against her crotch, nearly equal to the tight, yearning need _inside_ her, and she knows what's about to happen, knows it right at the back of her skull in her lizard brain.

She chokes on a sweet, slick tentacle, Jane's mouth on its base, as the Condesce pulls her head up and down, and the dog-girl howls as she shoves in, splits Roxy open from the back, then pushes harder. Roxy pushes back, riding the pressure filling her up, taking as much as she can. 

She's lost the plot. Her fingers close in the carpet and sweat stings her eyes and the scratches all over her skin. The dog-girl growls at her neck, hips pumping, her cock thrusting deeper, wider.

Roxy has to think to breathe.

"Janey," she tries to whisper when she gets a chance. "Please, Janey --"

"Obey," Jane replies and tickles the drooling tip of a tentacle across Roxy's eyes, caricaturing the Rogue's mask. "Eat you up, _yum_."

"I can't --"

"Can it," the Condesce tells her and a few tentacles slap her cheeks for emphasis.

Jane's laughing and fucking her fingers in and out of Roxy's mouth as she jacks the tentacle. The Condesce is laughing, her whole body _rippling_ as her bulge swells even more, tentacles lengthening, teasing over Jane's body, wrapping around Roxy's limbs. 

And the dog is still barking, but the sound is long and slow, drawn-out, her cock swelling and twitching inside Roxy. She's coming already, more need torquing down her spine and wrapping around the cock; her breasts are slammed into the floor, her nipples dragging over the surface, her breath caught and stoppered around Jane's hand. Another, tiny, beautiful tentacle twists up one nostril, shivering, numbing, swelling as it goes.

She comes, and comes again, tears streaking her face, Jane laughing at her and biting her neck. She can't see much more than the Condesce's bulge, the overwhelming psychedelia of her spiralling and multiplying, fractals that fuck and spurt.

But the dog's gone silent now, folded over her back, yet more weight to push the air out of her lungs. Its cock has enlarged well past pleasure, into a red-hot iron ball, just out of the furnace. The heat, its stretch and throb, reverberates through her body, fills her up past the breaking point. Roxy peers helplessly upward through the blear of tears. She doesn't want this; she can't ever stop this.

"Fi-ine," the Empress says, rolling her eyes and pushing Jane off her lap. "Go help your ugly friend." She jams her hand into the back of Roxy's hair; it's so big that her thumb comes around under Roxy's chin, presses deep. "And you, shut the fuck up."

Jane pushes the dog-girl back; the motion makes her yelp and the stretch of her cock inside Roxy gets worse, blinding crimson, before returning to merely agonizing. She circles a cool arm around Roxy's waist, the bits and bytes scattering and sizzling out. There's the sounds of kissing, but Roxy can't see, can't even hear much, as the Condesce works her head up and down one tentacle, then two, until her lips are stretched and aching and burning just as bad as her cunt.

And then Jane's cool, electronic-mercurial lips slip over her ass, down the sweaty crack, and her tongue laps at the hole, at the root of the dog-girl's cock. At the first touch, Roxy rears back, screams in relief, before being towed back in place. She's pushed down, flattened, only her ass and face up, sucking down, choking.

The dog-girl yelps and whimpers, her cock burning a hole up Roxy's spine; Jane licks and suckles, electricity and a sort of anesthetic coolness spilling out; the Empress fucks her hips forward and babbles in her alien tongue, urging on her girls, insulting Roxy, working her viciously-long nails across her tits.

Roxy strung out among them, agony and numbness and creaking, cracking stretch. The cold metallic squirm of Jane's tongue pulses through Roxy's nerves, skips and fires in time, _obey submit yum yum yummy **consume**_. 

They're going to eat her up, fuck her deep and drain her dry, drown her in the Condesce's torrents of satiny purple come.

A part of her, deep and true, knows this is how it should be. She's nothing, a void, empty but for what they fill her with.

At least Janey's here, at least she's not alone.


End file.
